


Save the Last Dance

by AristaStarfyr



Series: Starfyr [1]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (IDW Comics), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Gen, Major Original Character(s), Original Character Death(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Tearjerker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-12 10:08:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7098427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AristaStarfyr/pseuds/AristaStarfyr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What better way to begin a new series than starting at the end?  For some reason, this wants to go backwards.  When the series is done, I will try and remember to edit the summary with the order the stories should go.</p><p>Fic based off some RP involving my OC that has been shifted a bit and IDW turtles.  I LOVE AU, so this won't follow the comics completely.</p><p>Kudos and comments are love.  This is a sad, sad fic and I still can't comprehend how I managed to finish it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She remembered the path to be easier in her youth. Walking used to be easier, too. Through the years the government improved and loosened the tight stranglehold on human-mutant relations. It felt good to know that she somehow added her efforts to accomplish that. She wouldn't last as long but at least her legacy would and continue to help her family. While the mutants could roam more freely on the streets and have normal lives, the brothers chose to remain in the bunker. Home sweet home.

A newer tombstone graced the cemetery and it was one she paused at, looking at the blank face. There was no need for letters. Only the people who knew him would remember. She was proud to be one of those people who knew. Wren laid a hand on the smooth stone, surprised to notice how frail and weathered it looked. How _old_ it was. "Long time no see, Papa," she started softly. "Hope you're enjoying retirement with your wife and not fretting too much over the rest of us. I'll see you again soon enough." Patting the stone, she sighed and headed towards the church. Not much had changed, which was nice. Nothing seemed rebuilt or upgraded but nothing was worse off, either. Status quo.

"Sis!" whispered the shadows beside her.

"Mike," she murmured back, turning to look into the youngest's bright eyes. Oh, they all had aged, but theirs was slower than hers. More methodical and patient. More turtle. She was envious of that and kept it pushed down deep. "It's good to see you again." Her arms went up to embrace him, leathered palms feeling as coarse as reptilian skin. "You're looking as young and dashing as ever."

"You're looking good too, Wren."

"Ha. Don't lie." She heard the hesitation in his voice. "I know what I look like." Patting his cheek, she smiled, ignoring the obvious. "How is everyone?"

"Good! Good. We were wondering when you'd come and visit again. Hadn't heard from you in a while."

 

"I've been busy," she answered, following Mikey to the familiar entrance. It had been hard putting the final program into place while fighting infection after infection. She hadn't been surprised by any of it since she had run her body into the ground. The last doctor's visit finalized her decision to come to New York. "I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch as much as I should have."

"It's fine," Michelangelo started quickly, looking back at Wren. He looked away when her expression softened. 

Moving up and down the ladder was easier since they added extra things. The bunker was cozier than she remembered. Less hobbled together and more homey. There was a modern flair with stable lights and more room with additions. Wren always wondered how she managed to make it around dinner time on her arrivals. It was extremely comforting to smell the cooking of whomever had duty this time-and it always had been when she visited. The smell now seemed better than her memories. She might even have a bite or two this time.

Two more of the brothers greeted her, happy to see their friend and 'sister.' The happiness was short lived as they caught her scent and they couldn't hide what they sensed. Wren didn't hide it from them, either. She still smiled, hugging them as fiercely as she could. Their own embraces were restrained, fearing that she would break if they clung too tightly. Wren's eyes moved to Donnie when he entered the room. The other three knew that they weren't being actively ignored and went about finishing dinner to give the two privacy. Don's brown eyes looked at Wren, scrutinizing the severe curve of her back and the sallowness of her skin. The sickly sweet scent was not unfamiliar. It was how their father smelled when the time was near. He didn't need to tell her what exactly what was wrong because it was something he couldn't fix. "How long?"

Wren waved a hand. "A few weeks, maybe months. The doctors wanted me to go somewhere warm." A smirk graced her face, making her look decades younger for a flash of time. "So I came here."

"New York in late winter isn't warm." The turtle's brow furrowed.

"It's not the place. It's the people."

"You should have listened to them." He turned to head back to his lab but was stayed by her voice.

"I can't prolong this any more than I have, Donatello. Would you rather I never returned at all?" Her question stopped everyone. They looked between the two, not knowing if they should intervene or not. Donatello sighed, shaking his head.

"No, of course not." He turned to look back at her. When had she gotten so old and frail? It seemed like only yesterday they were trying to keep from fighting each other, then keep their hands off each other, holding their arguments and passions in private. He missed the passage of time. Maybe he denied himself that it was happening all together.

"My family's gone. They have been for a while now. You're all that is left and I want to remember the good times, Donnie. And I want you to remember them, too."

Normal household sounds resumed when Donnie moved towards Wren, sitting beside her on the couch. He tried to hide his wince when he became aware of how frail she was. There was a long stretch of silence between the two of them which was never anything unusual.

"I don't want to go," Wren finally admitted. "I feel ready because I'm tired, but I don't because I never have. It's frustrating."

"You never did all the things you should have," Donnie rationalized.

"Who says? _You?_ I saved a family who became very dear to me. I also helped try and right the wrongs I did when I was in the military. I trained and taught and helped found and guide the H.M.A. and I spent time with you. What did I miss?"

"A husband. A family of your own."

Wren waved the notion away. "Next life. I'm content with what I have in this one. I was always content with you even if you didn't believe me." She looked up at him and for another heart breaking moment he saw smooth skin and wide, sparkling eyes. "You frustrate the dickens out of me and make me gloriously happy all in one breath."

Donatello was silent and Wren saw the emotions flit across his face. She moved, reaching up to pull his mask down and shift it down around his neck. "I'll be alright, Don. And you will too, with your brothers. I've done what I was supposed to do. I feel like I should be around for centuries and that's nothing anyone can cure. My body's warranty is just done. You can cheat death only so many times when you're mortal."

This time Wren was the one who comforted as steel strong arms clung to her as much as they dared.

 

Over the next six weeks Wren spent individual time with each of the turtles, speaking to them privately. With each passing day she grew weaker and they all worried for her. One day it seemed to all turn around and she was spry again. In fact, she wanted to watch them train. And if a young Wren was stubborn, an old Wren was doubly so. 

They made certain she was comfortable with pillows and an extra blanket tucked around her shoulders. Cozy in her spot, she leaned against the wall with a smile brightening her face. Watching the turtles practice with finely honed instincts and skill, she remembered when she could train with them and hold her own. At least they indulged her in pretending she could hold her own. It wasn't common that she could get the upper hand on any of them but when she did she celebrated it with all her might. Wren watched and recalled how she would join in their deadly dance, feeling more alive than any other time. Sometimes even more so than when she was riding. The air in her lungs grew shallow until no air moved at all and the slight smile slacked just a tiny bit as her eyes still watched with a dulled, grey hue.

Leonardo felt it first. He continued to drill his brothers as the corners of his eyes stun. She wanted to have her last moments filled with the memories that made her happiest and he was bound and determined to honor that. Raph was the closest to Leo and sensed the change shortly after. His eyes widened briefly to Leo's narrowed ones and he glanced over to the spot where Wren was. He blinked once, then doubled his efforts. One by one they felt it, the change in the air that made the area oppressive. By the time training ended, no one had a dry mask and Leo's voice was hoarse and tight as he barely got through a soft mantra, bowing towards their fallen sister. Donatello's staff dropped from his hands, the sound echoing before he dropped to his knees before her. A quiet, choked sound came from him and he swore there was a wicker and the touch of velvet by his cheek.


	2. Michelangelo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thirty years later, each of the brothers recollect what their sister had done to comfort them.

The last convo we had? If you're talking about 'that' talk, it was on one of those mornings when the sun came blazing up and was blinding everyone. The radio and news had nothing but accidents to report. It was also the morning she wanted to go take a look at the garden.

It was something she set up with me forever ago. All of these seasonal plants, including some that flowered in the winter. She always said her favorite ones were in the summer because that's when all the yellow and orange ones showed up. She said it for me. 

Anyway, I helped her to the place and she sat on the bench that Dad always sat on, looking just as old as he did when it was time. It still makes me hurt. 

"They say that when you've done something really good and right in your life, you get to return to your true form," she started, looking at me.

"Yeah?" I couldn't respond any other way than with a grin and that devil-may-care attitude. It just hurt too much. "So you think we're gonna be human again next time around?"

"I hope so. You deserve as much." She always wanted the best for us. Not because of her and Donnie, but because she truly wished it. I think sometimes it hurt her to see us like this. Of course we all knew the reasons why it happened and whatever, but it didn't make her hurt any less. And certainly none of us wanted to see her hurting.

"So what do you get to be when you win the grand prize, Wren? It's not a bird, is it?" It was meant to be a joke, honest! But then the tears started and I was kneeling before her in a flash, holding onto her hand. I remember thinking it was too cold to be hers. I hated the fact that I was warmer than she was, these days. "Hey. Hey, I'm sorry."

I had no idea what I was sorry for.

It always took her a few minutes to control herself. It was like Raph's passion. Only she didn't react with anger when it happened. It wasn't anything different now that she was in her eighties. "It's not you," she croaked. "And no, I won't become a bird."

"What will you become, then?"

She never said what she was on the inside. I'm not an idiot to think only humans had souls. I knew what we were before and it wasn't entirely out of the range of possibilities that she wasn't. "I hope I'm human again. It's a funny thing to hear it come from my mouth. I don't think I have this happen to me often."

"Well, you don't see me asking to be a mutant turtle on my next go around, do you?" There! She smiled. I feel a little better, now. But then something else crept into my head and it needed to be released. "I don't want to watch all the people I love die before me."

"Honey." That too cold hand was on my face but I leaned into it anyway. "Don't stop loving the people you love. And you have your brothers with you."

"Yeah, but--"

"Spirits don't die. It's not your fault you got a better model than I did. Than Papa did."

That made my heart twist. After a while, she chose that name for him while she kept Daddy for her own father. 

"Don't let it stop you from finding more friends. Please. Don't let your world be just four. You're the foundation, not the peak." When she smiled, it was like she was young again, or younger, at least. "Don't let them turn in on themselves. The world is different now, and it continues to change."

"Yeah, I know. You started that too, huh?"

"It doesn't matter who started it. What matters is that it's happening." She fell quiet then, watching me watch our hands. Hers had dropped from my face to cover mine. And hers were so small now. Pink engulfed by green. "I'll be on the wind, Mike. And I'll keep watch from time to time. If you guys ever manage to make it out to the farm again, I'll be in the thunder."

"I don't want you to go, too." I couldn't even look at her. Our hands were getting damp.

"Part of me doesn't want to go. That's the part that still believes I'm in my twenties and I'm mostly indestructible. The other part of me is restless. I can't move. I can't take in a full breath. I can't do what I want because this form is all worn out. Time to move on, Michelangelo. Mikey, look at me." 

I didn't want to. She didn't deserve to see the sadness when I knew that she wanted to be here for the good memories. But then she kissed me on the corner of my mouth and I started to lose it anyway. It didn't matter how old I was, I was still the youngest. She didn't tell me not to, either and just held me. She told me she loved me and that eventually I would remember the smiles and laughter, too. And I had to remind the others that. Every time we had that was just her and me she let me mourn her while she had the arms to hold me. God, she was the best sister I ever had. She was so good to us and for all of us, really. I only want the best for her, too, but I have a feeling she can't get back in with her true self any more. Was it because she did something really bad?

I can't believe that. I refuse to. Something else must have happened.


	3. Raphael

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raph's last convo with Wren

Yeah, we had one of those talks. I was punching out the dummy and she was watching with this quirky smile on her face. It was keeping me from concentrating on that dummy. Infuriating, really. Finally I spun to her, demanding what she thought was so funny.

"You guys are so hot. You know that, right?"

That coming from your sis who's like the crypt keeper now is unsettling, alright?

"What?" I swore that this wasn't an actual conversation. Maybe it was a memory and I was hearing things.

"I always enjoyed the eye candy. Why do you think I liked watching you all practice? And when you let me practice with you? Whoo. It's a girl's dream." That glimmer of mischiviousness hit her eyes again. "Especially when I got you to yield."

"I let you."

"Don't take that victory from me." Her fond look was gone in a flash, replaced by something somber and vexing. "I won fair and square."

"Ya fought dirty." I remember that time. She was all .... all twisty and lithe and I swore I had her for the pin. Then she did this _thing_ with her hips and torso and it was like I was burned alive. By the time I caught my senses she was on top, straddling my thighs with my own sai at my throat. Minx.

"You fought dirty all the time. Stay out of the kitchen..." Back to smiles again. And then a cough.

I hate that cough. The death rattle was in there and it shook me up. I was by her side, rubbing a hand in soft circles on her back and waited it out. I especially hated the fact that I knew what that cough meant because it wasn't the first time. "Slow, deep breaths, Wren."

"Missed that by twenty years," she rasped, still playing for a joke. I knew it wore her out. Everything did, these days. Just like it did Pops.

"Come on. Bed." She couldn't protest as I picked her up. "You can hack your lungs out easier upstairs, anyway."

Leo saw us and I nodded slightly to him. She was okay, but she'd need something to drink. Probably that noxious tea blend she liked and Leo had grown a taste for. I set her up in bed in the room she had turned into a little girl's sanctuary with all the light colors and stuffed animals and unicorns and shit. I knew she had a reason for it but back then I thought it was for her. Later on i realized she did it for us. "There. All tucked in."

"Thank you, Raph." Wren watched me for a minute. I must have lowered my head and sighed because she said my name. "Raphael."

"Yeah?" 

"I mean it. You are all beautiful everywhere. Inside and out. And I wish I could remind you all of it forever. Even with that crooked smile of yours." Wren managed to suppress the next coughing jag. "The next time we meet....you probably won't remember me."

"What are you talking about?"

"The next life. Don't tell me you don't believe in reincarnation."

"Doesn't matter if I do or not. It happened, didn' it?"

"I just...I want you to know that I will remember you. And the beauty you try to hide from the world with your hard shell."

I felt it. That stupid lump in my throat. She always managed to do that to me and it's not getting any easier. I'm gonna miss it. "Yeah, well if I didn't have a hard shell, I'd be dead, already."

"I'm glad you're not." Why the hell is she bent on making me lose it? I just sat there, looking at her. She didn't say anything but a thank you to Leo for her tea and waited for him to leave to keep going. "I'm going to miss the fuck out of you, though."

Now that? That was hilarious. A little old lady cursing like that in a room filled with stuffed kittens and unicorns was just funny and I couldn't help but laugh. Dirty fighter, she is. The laugh turned into tears eventually and I didn't realize it had until I felt her arms around my shoulders, guiding my head towards her.

"As long as you don't think about demolishing this room and scavanging it for useful items, you will always be welcome to sleep here."

"What...what makes you think we don't now?" From time to time when the world got too dark, we all sought solace in this cheery, bright... _innocent_ room. We know we don't deserve it-any of it but she made it for us. "Like hell I'll let them tear it apart."

"Protect it fiercely." I knew what she was trying to do when her hand went to my plastron. She just didn't have the strength to soothe properly, anymore. 

"You know I will, sis."


	4. Leonardo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo's POV about Wren's last request.

I've known for a long time I wanted her. It wasn't because she was the only female outside of Alopex who was interested in any of us. It.. It's actually hard to explain, sometimes. She touched us without reservation. The generosity with her hugs, the offer to massage sore muscles, the quick thinking to staunch the flow of blood. And it wasn't always with a physical caress that she touched us. Sometimes it was a look, the stillness of her breath, the laughing lilt in her voice. It was when she stopped touching us that I knew something was wrong. She was present but not truly _present_. That's when Father told me.

This woman who really had no connection to us ever probably would have had a very fulfilling life if she hadn't had given us the opportunity to take our destinies back for ourselves. It was selfless, utterly selfless of her. And stupid and foolish. It was a sacrifice that a leader would make and she did it without hesitation and without expecting anything back. It was something I should have done for my family and I couldn't. The thing was that she gave up her autonomy for us. It was when I was helping her though her recovery after being in Saki's and Kitsune's clutches that I discovered who she was. She couldn't hide something like that from me and definitely not with how deeply our meditations ran. I know for a fact that Raph and Mike don't know who she is. Don knows, but I don't know if he truly understands. It was hard for me to understand why it was _him_ who had to go and help her after the demon was removed, but I didn't fill that void in her life. I'm still trying to figure out what we connected her to, but she kept us connected with our humanity.

No, I never thought once of taking her from Donnie. It's not like that. But I wanted to make certain she would touch us again in however she desired to do so. 

I stayed close as often as I could without stifling her or without hogging her from my brothers. There was a very good chance that we would never meet again and there was just something deep inside me that was loathe to accept it. As the years moved on-crawled on for us, sped by for her, the visits became less frequent. So now while we had her, I was going to take advantage of every chance I had. She didn't stop me, either. I think she knew that I needed it. From the experiences we had with the Shredder and his ilk, we had a bond that the others didn't. A bond I was going to miss very much.

She sat beside me as I sharpened my katanas. She was there through all the throwing stars and shuriken and had sat there quietly for my most precious blades. I didn't speak and neither did she, knowing how dangerous and soothing the ritual was for me. And I wanted to share it with her even if it was only the sound of steel against stone in a rhythmic sound.

"You'll know when it's time," she said softly. Her eyes were on me, I could feel them, but I didn't lift my head to her words. My fingers were pressed to the blade and I couldn't afford to look away. "I want you to dance for me. To train as you always have and not stop." 

I stopped then. I looked up at her. "You want us to train."

Wren's nod was solid. "Yes."

"Even after you're gone, you want us not to stop."

"Exactly."

" _W-why_?"

I knew there was a crack in my voice. Normally I don't show anything. I have walls upon walls upon walls that even my own brothers have a hard enough time tearing down. But to hear from her that she wants to die watching us practicing ninjitsu hit me so hard I reeled from the impact. I would have thought that she would want quiet and peace, not the yelling and the drills.

"Because I want the last things I hear with these ears to be you guys. I don't want you focused on watching for my last breath, Leonardo. Don't focus on this body. It's nothing but a prison for me, now. A gilded cage because I still want to be able to touch you and I won't be able to, after." She reached out and touched me. No, not just touch me, but _touched_ me. Part of me to this day wonders if she did it to the others. I don't think she did. They didn't have binding experiences as we did.

I listed closer with a shiver in my breath. I craved that soft caress and even with a weathered hand it was just like the touch of a young lover. Or what I imagined it to be. What our relationship was entailed the spirit and how those strange and frightening threads connected. She was a balm to my soul, really. I had more guilt than just being controlled by Saki to deal with. I carried the guilt of the deaths of my brothers and father with me even though she absolved it with her touch. It was a pain that wasn't going to be fixed in this life or the next, I supposed. And I think she knew it, too. 

"I'll do what you ask of me, Wren." My words barely had sound to them. I knew she heard them, though. Something shifted in the way her fingers drifted over my chest and my breath exhaled with a low sound.

"I thank you, my brother." Wren murmured, letting her fingers gently pet me. "For all the ways you helped me. And all the ways you tried and I was too stubborn to listen."

"You're finally admitting that I was right?"

"Don't get a swelled head."

I chuckled a bit. Then shifted us so that she was cradled to my side and I could lean back against the wall, letting her touch soothe me as I breathed. Just like old times, really. It was the last time she did that for me and I did everything I could in my power to hold onto the memory of every detail.


	5. Donatello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donnie's last convo with Wren.

She was preparing us. I knew that from the first time she and Mikey came back from the garden with his mask dark ochre and her hand still encased in his. I saw it when Raph spent more time in her room than she did. And when she was with Leo in his room working on his weapons. I wanted to tell her she didn't need to do that. We all knew what death was and had been prepared to accept it at any given moment. We were ninja and walked with it daily. I danced with Death twice myself. Yet here she was, explaining it like we didn't know what was going to happen. Maybe she was reminding us that it was inevitable even though we didn't want it to be.

The time she spent with me was like any other time. When our relationship became less physical, it grew more intellectual. I don't want to necessarily say that it took her longer to mature but it took her longer to slow down and become more in tune with a turtle than a human. And oddly enough when that happened I noticed a greater serenity in her that I hadn't seen before. One could see that she needed us to help reset her. She wasn't human in soul, but after being reincarnated into one countless times, I could understand that she was losing herself. There are still times when I feel like that now. But I think that in helping her, she helped us with our humanity. Ying-Yang.

We spent the evenings together as we always had. Her head was on my thigh and I was absently stroking her hair while I was doing something on the computer. It was a normal position for us to be in and it gave her the greatest comfort while I continued my work. Most of the time she would sleep through it but this time she wanted conversation. "I want babies."

The statement in of itself didn't make me stop either action. "A little late to be telling me that now, don't you think? Menopause happened thirty years ago. Not to mention the whole different species thing."

That drew a snort from her. " _Next_ time. Babies."

"You can have all the babies you want, next time."

"Yes, but I want _yours_." She shifted and I knew she was looking up at me. "If you still want mine."

"I won't remember you."

"But _I'll_ remember you. I'll find you." Wren always had this way about her that made the things that came out of her mouth disturbing. I'd gotten used to it. 

"That doesn't mean anything. Maybe you'll want someone else. Maybe you'll have someone else before you even find me. What makes you think that next time will be set up so that we'll find each other, I'll put the glass slipper on your foot and we live happily ever after?"

"Because after times of great duress and suffering, you have to be rewarded with a kindness. It's a universal law."

I paused in my typing and then looked down at her just as my thumb traced the side of her face. Old but still beautiful. I loathe the day when I look into those eyes and they're not sparking with life. "People in our line of work aren't that lucky."

"That's because people in our line of work usually don't remember past lives." Her face turned to nuzzle my hand and I let her. Some habits never change. "I'll beat the Fates if they don't relinquish some good luck."

"Turtle luck is rarely good."

"Unicorn luck is." She smiled. "Found you, didn't I?"

"Ha. More like decided I was interesting enough to torture so you didn't shoot me on sight." There was no bite in those words. There hadn't been in a long time. Now it was a jibe that was told with great fondness.

"Been a thorn in my side ever since." That too, told with great fondness. "I wouldn't have changed it. I would have been happy staying here all the time, Don. But I wanted to make you happy, too and only visited." 

Whether it was my own stubbornness or fear, I could never let her stay with us constantly. That would have been selfish and I knew for a long time that I couldn't afford that luxury even if she handed me small pieces of it on a golden platter. No matter what she said, she couldn't remain in the shaddows forever.

"My name isn't easily translated into English," she started, changing the subject. "You know, my original one."

"You remember it?" That was interesting. We couldn't remember our human names before now. "Are you going to keep it a secret?"

"Nightshade. That's the best translation I have." 

"Is that the one you think you might have next time?"

"Oh, I have no idea. I might have Gertrude or Nellie or Orla as a name, who knows!" She laughed a bit but it was too much for her old lungs and I made her sit up, leaning against me. After the cough subsided she rested her head against me, waiting for her breathing to settle. All that was going on in my head were the symptoms and their gauges of severity. She wasn't in the mild range and hadn't been since she arrived, either. "But I wanted to tell someone."

"What do you want me to do with it?" My words were quiet to reflect the somberness of the moment. 

"Hold it as fiercely as you do me." Her voice wavered and I set the laptop aside, opting to use both arms to hold her.

That's why I put the _Solanum dulcamara_ on her tombstone. She's still living up to her name.


End file.
